


Bet on It

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Genuinely these three are ridiculous, I will be the content I want to see in the world, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Self inflicted, Shiro Sandwich, all characters are of age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: I have a policy.  When I am sent hate, I write them porn.Here's to you, Nonny.Lance and Keith like to make bets.  Shiro near always benefits, but this time he becomes a player.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the closest I will ever get to writing Klance!
> 
> If you follow me on [tumblr](http://bosstoaster.tumblr.com), I've had some words about how I like this pairing but I don't usually enjoy the dynamics of it.
> 
> So I decided to try my hand at it, so if anyone else shares my tastes, here's something for you. Enjoy!
> 
> As a note, if anyone is considering this: Don't send me hate, even joking hate, for porn. Just request it. I like requests better.

Shiro heard the approaching footsteps long before he was reached.  Which was good, because otherwise the sudden hands on his shoulders would have been startling.  The kiss to his cheek less so.  “Afternoon, Keith,” he greeted calmly, not looking up from his screen.  “Did you need something?”

There was a pause, and Shiro didn’t have to be looking to know Keith was scowling.  He still hadn’t figured out how Shiro always knew it was him.  Especially in the last few months, he’d tried changing his gait and wearing different shoes to try and fool him, just to see if he could.  He hadn’t managed yet.

One day, Keith would realize that the amount of care he put into each step  _ was _ how Shiro could tell.  Today wasn’t that day.

“Lance wants a rematch,” Keith told him, resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder.  “You can probably use a break.  You’ve been staring at those screens for hours.”

Making a face, Shiro glanced back at the projected map.  It was full of flashing red dots (current warship locations) and long red lines (projected routes of those ships).  When he’d started, the screen had been blank, and now Shiro saw spots behind his eyes when he blinked.

Okay, yeah, Keith probably had a point.

“A break’s not a bad idea,” he agreed easily, turning around.  “Why does Lance want a rematch?  I think he won last time.”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s what he called it.  It might have been on my behalf.”

Stretching comfortably, Shiro turned off the screen with a flick of his hand.  Unable to help it, his lip curled up.  When he was using the screens during a crisis, he didn’t even think about it, but the rest of the time the ‘a screen anywhere, any size’ thing was just fun.  “Alright, sure.”  

Shiro followed behind Keith, the silence easy.  Part of him was tempted to ask what, exactly, the bet was.  But mostly he appreciated the relative restraint they had. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any stretch but, well, Shiro wasn’t exactly a PDA type of guy, usually.

Usually.

When Keith didn’t turn down the hallway to the paladin quarters, Shiro’s brows winged up.  Once in awhile, they took over one of the guest quarters, because the beds tended to be bigger and they had en suites.  It was a frequent topic of complaint, but no one had moved into one of the rooms permanently - they were too far away from the hangers or the control room, and given Allura’s continued fondness for running drills, it wasn’t worth the extra distance.

Still, they had their uses.  Especially for a certain kind of evening.

As the door opened, Lance picked his head up from where he was draped over the bed.  “There you are.  Took you long enough to get him.  I told you he was in the control room.”

“I needed to finish up what I was working on,” Shiro replied smoothly, before Keith could respond.  “Blame it on me.  You have a bet?”

Lance grinned, flashing enough teeth to push the expression into predatory.  “You mean bets.  Plural.”

Pausing, Shiro glanced over at Keith, who just smiled back, eyes dark.  “Fine.  Bets.  What’s the goal, here?”

“First, myself and Keith have a bet.  First to make you scream is the winner.  No penetration until then.”  Lance held up one finger, the corner of his lips pulled up.

Shiro considered them both.  “And the prize is?”

Meeting his gaze, Keith tilted his head.  “Bragging rights.  Unless you had something to add.”  

It was the standard answer, and more than once Shiro had declined to weigh in, just to make sure there wasn’t any entitlement there.  He assumed not, but once in awhile it was better to  _ know. _

Today wasn’t a day he needed to push.

“Winner gets to decide what they’d like, then,” Shiro replied easily.  “With standard vetos.”

The addition was so standard that Lance didn’t do more than give a distracted nod.  “That’s set, then.  The second is between us and you.”

Well, that would explain the ‘rematch’ part, then.  Last bet against him, Shiro had won.

It was rare that the pair of them worked together like that.  Sure, they were capable, but they butted heads so often that the betting system had started just to give them a more constructive outlet for it.  The alternative was that they fought until Shiro felt like he had to step in, and then he felt like he was their babysitter instead of their lover.

There had been a week where he’d very seriously considered ending this over that.  Since then, they’d made an effort to get along, and this was one of the most effective ways.

“Alright,” Shiro replied carefully, brows up.  “Shoot.”

Lance grinned and made a finger gun, then jerked it back.  “Bang.”  When Shiro only continued to stare, he shrugged.  “Outlast us both and you win.   And by outlast I mean-”

Snorting, Shiro rolled his eyes fondly.  “I can assume.  Alright, bragging rights or something else?”

“If we win, you have to show us that trick you did last week,” Keith replied instantly, eyes bright.  “In the meteor field.”

Ah.

That was outside of the bedroom, which wasn’t typical for one of these wagers.  But it wasn’t something Shiro was opposed to.  Just a little embarrassing to admit, because he’d gotten the idea from an old cartoon.  He hadn’t been sure he could pull it off until about halfway through.

Neither of them particularly needed to know that, which was why he’d kept it to himself thus far.

“And if I win?”

Lance spread his arms dramatically.  “You win an all expenses paid afternoon of pampering at Spa Klance.”

Sitting down on the bed, Keith scoffed.  “Spa what?”

“It’s our names.  Keith and-”

Keith shook his head.  “No, I get that.  But it sounds like a shitty detergent.”

Brows drawing down, Lance scowled.  “You sound like a shitty detergent.”  But then he caught himself and pulled back, so he wasn’t leaning aggressively into Keith’s space anymore.  A side glance at Shiro proved it was for his benefit.

Which was nice.  They did try, that much was obvious.

And right now, that fighting only meant Shiro had this bet  _ in the bag. _

So he smiled back at them, knowing full well the expression was wolfish.  “Sounds good to me.”

“Awesome,” Lance replied, beaming back.  He grabbed Shiro by the vest and pulled him down to the bed with them, eyes bright with challenge.

In that way, Lance and Shiro were more similar than Keith was to them.  Keith’s drive was all internal, a push to outdo himself and meet his own standards.  Lance and Shiro, on the other hand, wanted to  _ win. _

The major mistake was making Shiro a player.

While Lance worked on getting Shiro out of his shirt and vest, Keith’s hand crept into Shiro’s hair.  At first, he leaned into the touch, enjoying the heat Keith put off.  But then the fingers dug in, taking as much a hold as possible, and he gave a sharp tug back, tilting Shiro’s head back and exposing his neck to suck on.

Shiro wasn’t usually a big fan of pain in the bedroom - he wasn’t sure what he’d do, if pushed - but biting and hair pulling weren’t anything he minded.  The opposite, really.  His pain threshold was high enough that something so minor rarely bothered him, and it was just a flash of sensation.  

What he liked was the vulnerability of it.  Shiro could show his neck and lean back or have his thighs splayed wide, and it was  _ safe. _  He was safe with Keith and Lance, and he could reap the benefits of that vulnerability, let the pleasure blank out his mind for a while and let his brain take a break.

Which was a lot of thoughts to explain the fact that Shiro’s breath caught and he let out a soft groan at the treatment.

Lance let out a noise that was nearly a cackle, sliding his hands up the front of Shiro’s shirt.  “Oh, we are so winning this.”  When Shiro tried to protest, Lance pressed his mouth to Shiro’s nipple through the fabric, and the thought melted out of his head.

Okay, they were all way too clothed for this.  Lance still had his hands in Shiro’s shirt but hadn’t moved them farther, so he grabbed onto the bottom and yanked it off, tossing it aside. He caught a flash of Lance’s grin before he started to shove at Lance’s jacket, trying to get him to take it off.  Behind him, Keith pulled away to take off his own jacket, and Shiro used the pause to start on his boots.

“You know, if you wore less, undressing wouldn’t take so long,” Lance pointed out easily, pulling off his own shirt and kicking off his shoes in the same motion.  Damn his sneakers.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but be like Keith.  At least his stuff doesn’t need to be peeled off.”

Keith snorted.  “Like you mind.  You know how many times I’ve seen you staring?”

Grinning, Lance shrugged.  “There’s plenty to stare at.  But it’s a better view when the clothes are off anyway.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, next time I’m wearing year old clothes that don’t fit because it happened to be what Keith still had,” Shiro shot back.  He twisted in place, cupping a hand around the back of Keith’s head and pulling him into a kiss.  “Still can’t believe you kept it.”

Keith met his gaze steadily.  “You were coming back.  I knew it.”

Shiro beamed back and kissed him again, then patted his chest.  “C’mon, you’re falling behind.”

Laughing again, Lance pressed against Shiro’s chest to better look around him.  “Yeah, Keith, keep up.”

“Fine,” Keith replied, half a snap and half challenge.  He reached around Shiro, shoving his fingers between him and Lance.  Then he raking them down Shiro’s chest like claws, clipping his nipple in the process.  

Shiro jolted, head falling back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.  But this time he kept his head, and Shiro wrapped one leg around Lance, who was still half-draped over him.  It required he take on more weight, but that at least helped to keep him focused while he rocked his hips up.

Between the two of them, Lance was the the easier one to tease to orgasm.  He wanted to win, yes, but Keith was more single-minded.  Lance, on the other hand, was distractible, especially when it came to pleasure.

It helped that dragging Lance closer meant that Keith couldn’t continue to scratch over Shiro’s chest, meaning he had a moment to clear his head.

Lance moaned against Shiro’s ear, grabbing onto his shoulders as he started to grind down.  Neither of them had managed to get out of their pants yet, but it wouldn’t be the first time Shiro had gotten Lance to come in his pants.

Which, yeah, was pretty damn satisfying.

Gloved hands came down on Shiro’s shoulders as well, and he had just enough time to register the feeling before Keith moved away behind him, and then  _ shoved _ them both down.  They bounced on the bed from the force of it, and Shiro nearly jammed his nose into Lance’s cheekbone.

“Woah,” he muttered, brows coming together and he tried to look around Lance’s head for Keith.  “Feeling left out?”

That earned him a snort.  “No.  You’re more distractible on your back.” 

Oh.  

Dammit.

“Move,” Keith muttered, smacking at Lance’s hips.  “Keep making out with him and keep him from thinking.”

Shiro thought Lance would bristle at the order, but he only grinned.  “Rodger that.”  And then he held onto Shiro’s jaw in both his hands and tilted his head up for a filthy kiss.

Let it never be said that Lance wasn’t an amazing kisser, because Shiro’s mind blanked.

Then there was hot pressure on his cock, and Shiro’s eyes rolled back.  He groaned into Lance’s mouth, a choked, wavering noise as he fought to keep from bucking.

It took a few moments for his brain to come back online, and then Shiro reached down blindly to find Keith’s head and tap at it.  “Cheating,” he managed, pulling back reluctantly from Lance’s mouth.  “S’cheating.”

“No it isn’t,” Keith replied easily.  “We said no penetration.  I’m not penetrating anything.  You’re still in your pants.”

Lance’s snickers were all the proof Shiro needed at this had been planned.

Well, screw that.

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro took a deep breath, centering himself in the way he usually did for meditation practice with the lions.  It pulled him away, gave him enough distance to think logistically and to have a fighting chance.

Lance was the easier of the two to access.  Shiro could reach over to place a hand on the inside of his thighs, pausing to make sure his reaction was positive.  When Lance let out a soft groan, Shiro moved up further, cupping and massaging him through his pants.

But now that he was thinking more clearly, Lance wasn’t who Shiro should be worried about.  How he should have started was to focus on Keith, keeping him off balance enough that he couldn’t zero in on a target.

Next time, then.  For now, he needed something else.

So Shiro pressed his leg up, slotting it between Keith’s thighs in an invitation to rut.  After a moment, Keith rocked down, but not in the eager, excited way Shiro had hoped for.  It was an idle move, not his focus in the least.  

Damn.

“I can hear him thinking from here,” Keith complained, and the vibrations of his voice against Shiro’s cock made him jolt again, his concentration stuttering.  “What are you doing up there?”

Lance snorted.  “What am  _ I  _ doing?  You’re slobbering over his dick and he’s not distracted.  What are  _ you _ doing?”

Growling, Keith slid his hands under Shiro’s hips, pulling him up off the bed, if only an inch.  The sudden helplessness sent a shock through Shiro, fast as a light being flickered.  He groaned in response, low and quiet in the back of his throat.

They weren’t getting a scream out of him until he was ready to, thank you very much.

Curling his toes, Shiro grit his teeth until the worst of the urgency had passed.  Then he focused his gaze on Lance, waiting until he caught his eye, and then let out a soft whine.  When Lance’s eyes went wide, Shiro took one of Lance’s hands in his and brought it to his mouth, sucking on a finger.

Lance’s cock jerked against Shiro’s other hand.  He ran two fingers along the base, working in tiny, encouraging circles and he suckled.

“Fuck,” Lance breathed, swallowing hard  “I- shit, one second.”  He scrambled back and away, ignoring Shiro’s protest.  Then he stripped out of his pants completely, gently extracting himself from his underwear and tossing it all over the side of the bed.  Then he moved back forward, shuffling on his knees.  “What do you want, hm?”

God, everything.  Shiro’s eyes fell closed as his mind wandered, imagining Lance in his mouth, heavy and warm and making eager noises.  Maybe while Keith stopped teasing and worked him open instead, fucking him nice and dark, then in those tiny, viciously fast rabbit thrusts he almost inevitably fell into when he was close...

Wait, no  _ no. _  He was not going to lose, and the rules had been no penetration.

Well, that was the rules for them, but Shiro wasn’t going to be accused of cheating and taint his win.

Forcing his eyes open and gritting his teeth against the pleasure, Shiro licked his hand, then wrapped it around Lance’s cock and started to pump.  “Kiss me?”

“Of course,” Lance replied warmly, shifting down so he could press his lips to Shiro’s without having to arch quite so much.  His other hand ran down Shiro’s chest, feather light and all tease, and he enjoyed the gentle keen Shiro made.  “You know, if you just screamed my name right now, we could stop this and fuck you the way you want to.  Fuck you nice and deep, just like you want.  Help me win and I’ll give you  _ anything.” _

Shit.

Shit  _ shit, _ Shiro should not have given Lance the chance to  _ talk. _  Grabbing the back of his head, Shiro pulled him down the rest of the way to kiss, open mouthed and wet and so fucking dirty, because it was the best way to keep Lance from pulling back and saying more words that would push Shiro to the edge.

But apparently that wasn’t what he should have worried about, because Keith undid Shiro’s pants and pulled them down to his thighs.  His boxers stayed in place, but Keith’s fingers slid between the cheeks of his ass, brushing fleetingly and through the fabric, while he pressed eager, sucking kisses along the shape of the shaft.

He was so close, he was going to-

No!  No, he was  _ not _ going to lose.  Shiro  _ refused. _

Pulling back from the kiss, Shiro thumped his head against the bed, whole body tense and straining as he fought against what felt nearly inevitable, until something ached in his stomach from holding back.  The hand holding Lance went still, and his other dug into the sheets, nearly ripping them out from under him from the force.

“Woah, hey there,’ Lance muttered, suddenly soothing rather than sexy.  “Don’t- ah, jeez, Shiro, don’t hurt yourself.  Restraint, dude.”

Shiro let out a choked noise, which was all he could manage when he was that locked up.  He didn’t want to lose, he hated to lose, he could control his own body, dammit, and-

“Yellow,” Lance called.

Instantly, Keith’s head popped up.  “What’s wrong?”

Lance jerked his head toward Shiro, then ran a hand through his hair.  “Just a breather.  Seriously, you look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel.  You alright?”

“I-” Shiro swallowed hard, because clenching and unclenching his hand in the sheets.  “Yeah, I just don’t-”

Moving up farther, Keith soothed his hands down Shiro’s chest, and he was aware of exactly how taut all his muscles were.  “Shiro, we know you can fight it.  But it’s not worth hurting yourself.”

“I don’t want to lose,” Shiro admitted, unknotting inch by inch.  And they had a point.  Now that he was was unlocking, his muscles were starting to  _ ache.  _ Not in a fun way, either.  

Lance glanced at Keith, then sighed.  “Bet’s off, then.”  At Shiro’s startled look, Lance shrugged.  “It’s not worth a trick to make you strain something.”

“Agreed,” Keith replied immediately, his dark gaze serious.  “You need to stop?”

Groaning, Shiro shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face.  “No.  No, I’m good.  You’re right.  I got into it.”

Lance snorted.  “No kidding.  I could literally see when you started to go all Black Paladin to try and win.  Didn’t work out so well.  Now, screw it, let us get you off?”

“Okay,” Shiro murmured back, eyes falling closed.  “Yeah.  Probably good.”

Without his sight, he couldn’t predict what they were doing as well.  Someone - Lance, Shiro thought - started to tug his boxers down, and they pulled the pants off as well in the process.  Another set (and okay, yes, that was almost certainly Keith with those blunt nails) soothed down his thighs, making sure Shiro relaxed completely, no longer fighting them.

Then, at nearly the same moment, both sets of hands touched him, either wrapping around the base or rubbing a thumb over the head.

Shiro came.  And after fighting so hard and being so close, he screamed.

He went utterly boneless after, blinking dazedly.  He felt pleasantly wrung dry, even if he was going to feel this in the morning. Maybe after they sorted out their bet, Shiro could-

He paused, then chuckled.  “Whoops.  Who won, then?”

There was a beat, and Shiro could imagine them sharing a glance.  “Eh,” Keith replied.  “Call that a tie.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Lance decided.  “Guess that means we both get to pick?”

“Or Shiro does.”

Lance made a soft, agreeing noise.  “That works.  What do you want from us, Shiro?”

“Want to suck you,” Shiro murmured to Lance, taking a deep breath.  “And I want you to fuck me.”  He reached out for Keith, and he met him halfway with a kiss that tasted like wet cotton and salty skin.  “If that works for everyone.”

This time, Keith was the one to snort.  “Golly, Shiro, who would ever want something like that?  Of course it’s okay.”  At Shiro’s bland look, he rolled his eyes.  “Yes. Obviously.”

“I don’t make it a habit to say no to blowjobs,” Lance agreed.  “You okay on your hands and knees?”

Considering it, Shiro rolled over.  His shoulders ached, but not enough to be even a distraction, so Shiro nodded.  As long as his balance held, he’d be alright.

Lance scooted on his knees again, brushing a hand through Shiro’s bangs to push them off his face.  “Look so pretty like this,” he told him, voice soft and filthy.  “Open your mouth for me?  That’s it.  Nice and easy now.”  He moved closer until Shiro could start to lap Lance’s cock, balls to tip, and then took him in his mouth to suckle.  “That’s it.  That’s our Shiro.”

While Lance kept him busy, Keith rummaged through the storage compartment next to the bed, pulling out lube that had no doubt been stashed here earlier.  Shiro heard him pop open the cap, and soon a slick finger was pressing in.

Keith was efficient at stretching, more interested in doing the job well than teasing.  Instead, Shiro focused on Lance cock, relaxing as he took move down his throat.  He wasn’t comfortable deep throating, because anything that made it too difficult to breath generally left him uncomfortable, but he could manage bobbing fairly easily.

Finally, Keith pulled back, and he shifted Shiro’s hips to get him at a better angle.  Then he lined himself and started to press in.

As much as he enjoyed most everything they did, there was something especially nice about being fucked on his hands and knees, especially by Keith.  He draped himself over Shiro’s back, holding on tight as he rocked in.

Trapped between them both, rocking with the force of Keith’s thrusts onto Lance’s cock, Shiro closed his eyes in bliss, his body heating anew despite his aches.  Hell, maybe in part because of them.  Shiro still didn’t know how his brain ticked, half the time.

Above him, he felt Lance shift, and he could hear them kissing as they both fucked into him.  He could the wet slide of tongue and gentle suction, could hear Keith’s soft groan.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Despite Shiro’s thoughts earlier, it was actually Keith who lost it first.  Maybe teasing Shiro before had affected him more than assumed, because his grip tightened and Keith started to grind into Shiro, his thrusts getting short but hard and fast.  As Keith started to lose control he let go with one hand to wrap around his cock.

Groaning, Keith bit down on the back of Shiro’s neck as he came, shuddering and gasping through his orgasm.

The bite made Shiro whine, jerking in Keith’s grip, and the sound of it made Lance cry out.  As Keith continued to milk him, Shiro couldn’t help gasping and groaning, and that was enough to send Lance over as well, spilling into his mouth.

Pulling out, Lance gripped at Shiro’s hair, gently tilting his head up so he could kiss him, despite the taste of his own come in Shiro’s mouth.  “That’s it.  Can you come again for us?”

“Yeah, I... just don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Keith replied softly, kissing over where he’d bit.  “Just relax for us.”

Lance went back to kissing him, soft and sweet, and he reached down between Shiro’s arms to run his fingers over Shiro’s nipple, adding to the stimulation.  “C’mon, pretty boy, one more time.”

And it wasn’t right then, thank god - he’d never live it down - but in another minute, Shiro came again, slumping down on the bed.

Pulling out, Keith immediately wrapped himself around Shiro, curling against his back.

Whatever Keith’s particular investment was in being the big spoon (and Shiro had a few theories, some that he liked less than others), it made Shiro’s lips twitch up.  “Comfy?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Lance replied, huffing at them.  “You two got all comfy and someone’s gotta clean up.  No fair.”

Shiro glanced up at him, reaching out in invitation to cuddle in.  “You don’t have to.”

Snorting, Lance glanced at the movement, clearly considering it.  “We’re gunna be gross.”

“Fuck it,” Keith shot back, muffled against the back of Shiro’s neck.

After a moment, Lance groaned and flopped down dramatically, cuddling into Shiro’s chest.  “When we’re sticking and nasty later, I blame you two.”

“Noted,” Shiro replied, desert dry.  Or he tried to.  It came out breathier than he’d meant it to, and he yawned halfway through.  “Mm.  I’ll still teach you the trick for an hour of pampering.  For the record.”

Lance grinned against his chest.  “Done.  Perfect.  And I get to break out the face masks and bathrobes.  S’gunna be awesome.”

Shiro smiled back.  “Sounds good.”  And when Keith grumbled in protest, Shiro only chuckled.

Really, he should have known better than to get so competitive.  Losing was just another vulnerability, and he knew he could be vulnerable with them.

Here, Shiro was safe.

And that meant more than all the sex.

(But the sex was a great bonus)


End file.
